


Too many cakes

by blackberrychai



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Felix Hugo Fraldarius is Bad at Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Oh my god they were neighbours, They were neighbours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberrychai/pseuds/blackberrychai
Summary: Felix's new neighbour is irritatingly noisy. It's a shame he's also irritatingly attractive
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49
Collections: 2020 Dimilix Exchange





	Too many cakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurie/gifts).



> Written for the 2020 Dimilix exchange!
> 
> Aurie, I loved your second prompt of loud neighbour Dimitri. I hope I bullied Felix sufficiently! This was a lot of fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> I recommend turning the work skin on for some bits to display properly. Also, a mild content warning for some light alcohol drinking in a social situation.

Felix glared at the unmoving door in front of him. He’d been standing here for at least a full minute already, and while the noise inside had abruptly stopped at his knock, the door had not opened. Sighing heavily, he raised a fist to pound heavily on the door again. The occupant is definitely home. Felix could _hear_ him through the ceiling of his own flat below.

He was just considering whether it was worth knocking a third time, when he finally caught a shuffling sound coming from inside.

“Hello?” he called loudly, not bothering to keep the irritation from his voice. “Is anyone there?”

“Ah!” said a voice, startled, and the door flew open.

Felix must have been standing closer to the door than he’d meant to or was strictly polite, because he was staring directly at the far too close chest of a very tall, very well-built man. He felt his ears immediately warm, and gritted his teeth to attempt to suppress the blush he knew would be rising up his neck.

The man seemed to be fumbling with buttons of his shirt, and the bottom few were done up entirely out of line. Large hands fidgeted with them, but then seemed to give up on it, and flew up to push damp blond hair out the man’s face.

The first thing Felix noticed when he looked up was that the man had one eye covered by a black patch. The second thing was that the visible eye was a bright, startling blue. He stared open-mouthed for a moment, then hastily took a step back to a more normal distance.

“Can— can I help you?” the man said, hands going back to attempting to button his shirt correctly.

Felix swallowed. Shit, yes. He did actually have a reason for coming here. He pulled his scowl back over his face. “I live just downstairs, and you’ve been—”

Before he gets any further, the man’s face lights up. “Oh, I’m so happy to meet some neighbours!” he says enthusiastically. “I was planning on introducing myself, but I—”

“Let me finish,” Felix snaps out, his anger quickly surfacing once again. “I live in the flat below, and you’re being _so fucking loud_.”

The man blushed a deep, bright pink. “Oh no,” he said in dismay, face falling. “I’m so sorry.”

Felix glared. “Well. Just… be quieter, OK? What are you even doing? I’ve just heard thumping through my ceiling every night this week.”

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, but avoided the question. “I really am sorry. I didn’t realise it was so loud.” His hands returned to the half-buttoned shirt yet again, and Felix did his best not to stare at the muscles of his chest underneath it. All things considered, he thought he did pretty well, even if it meant he ended up staring blankly at his chin.

“You must let me make it up to you!” He was saying suddenly, and Felix looked back up to his face in alarm. The man was smiling tentatively but warmly. “Here, come in. Would you like some tea?”

“Um,” Felix mumbled, but he was already following him into the flat without quite intending to. The layout was identical to Felix’s own just below, and they moved through the living room into the kitchen.

“Please, sit down!” the man said to him, and Felix stared at the nondescript chair at the kitchen table for a long moment. _What the fuck_ , he thought to himself. He’d come here to chew out the person disturbing him every night, not drink tea.

“Would you like milk? Sugar?” he was being asked, and he pulled himself out of the weird daze, and tried to recover his irritation.

“No,” he said curtly.

The man just beamed at him, and hummed tunelessly as he set a kettle to boil. “Oh!” he said suddenly, and turned back to Felix. “I’m so sorry! I’m so rude, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Dimitri.”

Felix glared at him again. Dear goddess, this man had no right to be so well-tempered when Felix had come to yell at him. “Felix,” he said reluctantly.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” he heard, but the rest of Dimitri’s words blurred into the background as he continued talking. Felix sighed again, and let it wash over him as he looked around. The kitchen was spotless, almost sterile. It didn’t look as if it had been used much since Dimitri moved in a few days ago.

A cup of tea landed in front of him. He looked up to another bright, though slightly nervous smile from Dimitri, and gave a grunt that he vaguely hoped conveyed thanks, and picked up the tea and sipped. It was better than he’d expected.

Dimitri seemed to have finally run out of words, however, and sat down across from him in silence. Felix itched at the fact that his tea wouldn’t cool down any faster.

“I have to go,” he said, as soon as he could manage to swallow the last of it. He got to his feet and shuffled uncomfortably. “Thanks for the tea,” he added.

That got another radiant grin from Dimitri. “It was my pleasure,” he said, standing up as well to show Felix to the door like a properly old-fashioned model of courteous hosting.

Felix lifted a hand in farewell when he reached the door, but Dimitri’s voice stopped him.

“Felix?” he said, and he turned back to look at him. He’d managed to do his shirt up properly at some point when Felix hadn’t been paying attention, but his blond hair was falling in his eyes again, and his smile was anxious. “I really am sorry for the noise,” he said.

Felix stared at him. “It’s fine,” he forced out, then hurried off down the stairs.

He’d almost forgotten about the noise.

  


* * *

  


When Felix got home from work the next day, there was a small plastic box sitting in front of his door, holding down a folded sheet of paper. Cautiously, he picked it up.

 _Yet again, I’m so sorry for the noise_ , it read. _I’m not the best cook, but I made some apology cookies. I hope you enjoy them._

Felix glared down at them, and as soon as he got inside they were shoved onto a table in the corner. He did his best to go about his usual evening routine, but he found his eyes kept being drawn back to them. Every time, he sighed heavily.

After about two hours, he gave up. Picking them up, he marched upstairs and knocked on Dimitri’s door. It opened much more quickly this time, and Dimitri was wearing his shirt properly, but he somehow still managed to look flustered as soon as he saw Felix.

“Felix!” he exclaimed. “Did you get the cookies?”

Felix shoved them out towards him. “Here,” he bit out. “They’re wasted on me. I don’t like sweet things.”

The way Dimitri’s expression fell made Felix feel just the slightest bit guilty. “Oh,” he said glumly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Felix snapped. “You didn’t know.” He shuffled uncomfortably. “Thanks anyway,” he mumbled.

Dimitri offered him a tentative smile. “Well, perhaps you could come in for tea again? If you wanted, of course! And only if you have time.”

Felix cut off his rambling. “Fine,” he said, and marched boldly into the flat before he could think better of it. Dimitri trailed after him happily enough, until Felix headed for the kitchen, whereupon Dimitri began to say, “Ah, perhaps it would be better—”

“Dear _goddess_ ,” Felix said, looking around the chaos that had exploded in Dimitri’s kitchen. “What the fuck happened here?”

Dimitri actually, physically hung his head. He looked faintly like a kicked puppy as he began wandering fruitlessly around the kitchen. “I, ah, haven’t quite cleared up after baking you the cookies.”

Felix looked in disbelief at the small box now resting on one of the few sections of clean counter top. It seemed awfully small to have caused this much chaos. Flour lay in a thick layer over most of the kitchen table, and there were patches of something sticky. On top of the oven were several baking trays that seemed to contain the discarded remnants of failed attempts. Felix took a deep breath.

“OK,” he said. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry!” Dimitri exclaimed. “We can have tea in the living room, I’m so sorry you had to see this!”

“Was this really all from making the cookies?” he said, still slightly in shock.

Dimitri ran a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid so,” he said. He picked up the box again, pulled the lid off, and showed Felix the contents. There were four cookies inside. “I’m not very good at baking. All the others were too burned.”

Felix stared into the box for a long moment, then looked back up to Dimitri, still shame-faced. One was burned around the edges. Another seemed relatively OK, and the last two were oddly pale in the middle. He sighed. “Come on, I’ll help you clear up.”

“You really don’t need to!” Dimitri protested, but Felix could see a hint of relief in his eyes.

Ignoring his protests, Felix marched over to the sink and began stacking the baking trays on one side. He frowned. “Where’s your washing up brush?” he asked.

Dimitri looked somehow even more embarrassed than before. “I… I don’t think I have one,” he said.

Felix stared blankly at him. “When did you move in again?” he asked.

“I don’t really do much cooking,” Dimitri said sadly.

“Right,” Felix said, running a hand through his hair. “OK. Look, I’ll go down to my flat and get mine, and then at least we can clear this up. Do you at least have some… cleaning supplies? Cloths, that kind of thing!”

“Yes!” Dimitri said, brightening immediately, and flinging open a cupboard to show Felix a shiny new array of cleaning products.

“Washing up liquid?” he asked.

Dimitri’s face fell. “Oh. I don’t think so.”

“How do you _live_?” Felix asked in disbelief. “How have you not needed to do any washing since you moved in?”

The sheepish expression on Dimitri’s face only got more mournful. “I eat takeaway, mostly. I just sort of scrub the forks under the water.”

 _Dear fucking goddess_ , Felix thought, again. “But you have… baking trays and everything?”

“I borrowed them,” Dimitri said.

Felix shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, and headed for the door.

As he walked down the stairs, he pulled out his phone.

Sylvain  
  
**Character A:** Question: why am I exclusively attracted to complete fucking idiots?  


The response was quick

  
**Character B:** Because you are one, obviously  
  


  


* * *

  


In the end, cleaning Dimitri’s kitchen took them the better part of two hours. There seemed to be icing sugar stuck to more or less everything in the kitchen, and little burned crumbs had wormed their way into every recess. Felix left Dimitri with a spare bottle of washing up liquid and a wholly inadequate little sponge. It would do for forks, he supposed, and anyway, he needed the proper brush more.

Two days later, when Felix gets home, there’s another little box outside his door, and his heart sinks. This time, though, the note folded underneath reads:

_I asked my friend to help me make these, since last time I tried it just ended up making more work for you! They’re cheese and chilli biscuits—I hope they’re savoury enough for you. Thank you so much for your help the other night._

_—Dimitri_

Unfortunately, the biscuits were ridiculously good—flaky and buttery, with just the right kick of spice to them. Felix emptied them onto a plate and had eaten three almost before he knew what he was doing. Glaring down at the biscuits, he angrily washed out Dimitri’s box, slammed its lid back on, and then marched up the stairs and hammered on the door.

Dimitri opened it quickly, but seemed red-faced and flustered, much as he had been the first time they’d met. He beamed immediately. “Oh, Felix! How lovely to see you.”

Felix fought down a blush. “Here,” he said, thrusting the box towards Dimitri. “I’m just bringing this back.”

“Thank you,” he said, still smiling widely. “I do hope you liked them.”

He nodded reluctantly back. “They’re… good. Thank you.”

“Well, it wasn’t me who made them. That probably helped.” Dimitri said, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. He turned and called over his shoulder. “Dedue! Felix says the biscuits are good!”

There was a noise behind Dimitri, and a man somehow even taller and more broad-shouldered than Dimitri appeared behind him, pushing the door open wider. He smiled at Felix, and it only looked half forced.

“Dimitri asked for my assistance in baking for someone who was not fond of sweets. I hope the biscuits sufficed,” he said.

There was no resemblance between him and Dimitri, other than in their builds, so they didn’t seem to be related—at least not by blood. But nonetheless, there was an odd similarity between them, with their upright postures and odd insistence on formality. Felix suddenly felt ashamed of the old jumper he was wearing, and looked down.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said awkwardly. “They’re… really good. Anyway, I just came to return the box. Have a good evening.”

He waved and turned away as quickly as he could without being too rude, and fled.

  


* * *

  


He texted Annette the next day.

Annette  
  
**Character A:** I need help baking something  
  
**Character B:** I thought you told me never to bake again!!!  
  
**Character A:** Yes. Don't.  
  
**Character A:** I need you to ask Mercedes for me.  
  
**Character B:** >:( I can bake!!  
  
**Character B:** and anyway, ask her yourself!  
  
**Character A:** Please?  
  
**Character B:** UGH FINE you’re such a villain.  
  


  


* * *

  


He made himself wait until the weekend before trekking all the way across the city to Mercedes and Annette’s apartment. It was tiny, on the top floor of an old terraced house, but the entire space was almost disgustingly warm and cosy. The two of them greeted him enthusiastically, and Annette bounced around the tiny kitchen as Mercedes walked Felix through the process of mixing up a cake batter.

They made tiny cupcakes, and he let Mercedes ice them, piping delicate swirls onto their tops. “Who are these for, anyway, Felix?” she asked. “I know you won’t eat them.”

“Just a house-warming gift,” he said gruffly, restraining his blush.

“Don’t you normally give people sort of… house things?” Annette asked.

Felix scowled. “He gave me biscuits. I’m just returning the favour.”

She squealed. “Oh! Who is this? Felix, you have to tell me everything.”

“Nobody!” he exclaimed. “Just my new neighbour. He went way over the top apologising for making some noise, so I need to return the favour.”

“Nobody, hmmm,” Mercedes said, a wicked grin creeping onto her face.

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure he has a boyfriend. The tallest man I’ve ever seen helped him bake the biscuits.”

Annette made a moue of disappointment. “Awww,” she said. “That’s a shame.”

By the time Felix left that evening, he had been thoroughly interrogated, and thoroughly laughed at. Annette seemed oddly overjoyed at the story of Dimitri’s kitchen nightmare—probably because it proved there was someone in the world even worse at cooking than her. On a whim, as he walked home from the bus stop and passed the supermarket, he ducked inside. At home, he scribbled a note, and then dashed up the stairs to deposit his gifts in front of Dimitri’s door.

He left Mercedes’s Tupperware, edged in pale blue, a folded note, and a new washing up brush, still in its packaging.

  


* * *

  


Dimitri appeared in front of Felix’s door the next evening, dressed in a fitted exercise shirt, apparently on his way out for a run. The shirt clings unfairly to the broad muscles of his chest, and his usually slightly unkempt hair was pulled back from his face.

“Felix!” he exclaimed. “You really didn’t have to give me anything! I just wanted to apologise for disturbing you.”

“It’s fine,” Felix said. “Think of it as a… house-warming gift, or something, I guess.”

Dimitri only smiled more brightly. “Aha, you’re a little early, then! I did actually have another reason for dropping by.” His face was filled with barely suppressed excitement. “I’m having an actual house-warming next weekend, and I would be honoured if you would come.”

Felix looked back at him, severely uncomfortable. “I, ah, I’m not great at parties,” he said.

“Oh, it’s not an actual party! Just some friends coming for dinner.” He grinned. “Dedue is cooking again, and that’s always wonderful.”

Felix’s stomach sank a little, but he smiled back anyway. “Oh, I suppose, then.”

“Wonderful!” Dimitri said, beaming. “Is seven next Saturday all right?” he asked.

Felix nodded. Somehow, Dimitri didn’t seem the least bit put off by his brief responses.

“I was just going to go for a run,” he commented. “I don’t suppose you have any advice on good routes around here?”

“There’s a park,” Felix replied uncomfortably. “A few minutes north. That’s normally pretty good.”

Dimitri smiled again, and thanked him profusely, then waved goodbye and jogged off towards the stairs.

Annette  
  
**Character A:** I’m going to die  
  
**Character B:** What happened!!! :o  
  
**Character A:** New neighbour invited me to a house-warming  
  
**Character B:** Isn’t that good??  
  
**Character A:** No.  
  
**Character A:** Also apparently the tall guy I told you about is cooking   
  
**Character A:** They’re definitely together.  
  
**Character B:** :(((( noooo  
  


  


* * *

  


The next week passed painfully slowly. He went to work, went to the gym, even let Sylvain drag him out for drinks on a Thursday night, because he was bored and frustrated enough that his sanity apparently temporarily deserted him. When Saturday finally came around, he found himself suddenly strangely reluctant to climb the two flights of stairs to Dimitri’s flat, and was tempted to cancel altogether. But he didn’t have a phone number to text, and the imagined vision of Dimitri’s hurt face if he were rude enough just to not turn up flickered behind his eyelids.

He watched the clock inch closer and closer to seven, and finally in a fit of frustration with three minutes to go, hauled himself off his sofa and into the shower. When he stumbled out and pulled his hair into something vaguely resembling a damp ponytail, it was already nearly ten past. He was halfway up the stairs before he realised he’d left the bottle of wine he’d let Sylvain persuade him to buy in his kitchen. By the time he knocked on Dimitri’s door, he was well and truly late, and flushed from running everywhere. Dimitri still beamed widely at him when the door opened.

“Felix!” he exclaimed. “Come in!”

He held out the bottle of wine, and tried not to look sheepish. “Sorry I’m late.”

Dimitri ushered him inside, and led him to the kitchen with the general air of a bouncing puppy. Deduce is stood in front of the stove, and the seats around the kitchen table are mostly occupied. Everything smells wonderful. “Everyone, this is Felix,” Dimitri declared. “He lives downstairs. Felix, you’ve met Dedue, and this is my stepsister Edelgard, my friends Ashe and Ingrid, and Ingrid’s girlfriend Dorothea.”

Felix went stiff as he met Ingrid’s eyes. She set her glass down with a slight click, and said, “We’ve actually met, Dimitri. Hi, Felix.”

“Ingrid?” he asked in disbelief. “How the fuck do you know Dimitri?”

Ingrid frowned. “I… what do you mean? How did you not?” Seeing Felix’s blank expression, her expression turned concerned. “Felix, he’s Lambert’s son.”

Felix blanched, and Dimitri stiffened beside him. “Did you know my father?” he asked, voice hoarse.

In silence, Felix just stared at him, while the kitchen clattered to a stop, the only sound the sizzle of Dedue’s frying pan. Ingrid interrupted it. “Dimitri, Felix is—Glenn was his brother.”

Dimitri sucked in a sharp breath, and Felix suddenly realised he looked like he had aged ten years in the past half a minute. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I suppose we must have met. But I didn’t recognise you.”

Dorothea broke the tension. “I think I’m missing some things here,” she said lightly.

Shifting slightly away from her side, Ingrid sighed. “Do you remember I told you about Glenn?” she said quietly. Dorothea nodded. “He worked for Dimitri’s father. They were—” she broke off.

“They were all killed in the same accident,” Dimitri finished for her. He was pale, his hair falling almost completely over his face. Felix avoided his eyes.

Ashe jumped up from his seat. “Felix, can I get you a drink?” he asked brightly, his grin slightly manic. Felix nodded back, swallowing his anxiety, and conversation slowly resumed, the kitchen filling up with chatter again.

Slouched in a chair in the corner, Felix nursed his glass of wine, and watched Dedue place a consoling hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, and shoot him a questioning glance. Dimitri nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed his hair back from his face, then dove back into the discussion Edelgard and Dorothea seemed to be having.

Annette  
  
**Character A:** fuck  
  
**Character A:** so  
  
**Character A:** turns out neighbour is the guy who survived my brother’s accident???  
  
**Character B:** whoaaaa fuck  
  
**Character B:** holy shit  
  
**Character B:** you OK???  
  
**Character A:** I guess  
  
**Character A:** At least the food’s good. I’ve decided Dedue is welcome to him as long as he keeps giving me food.  
  
**Character B:** WAIT Dedue??  
  
**Character B:** That's definitely not a common name right?  
  
**Character B:** tall guy, white hair?  
  
**Character A:** what.  
  
**Character A:** do you know him???  
  
**Character B:** If it's the same one yeah!! He’s dating my friend Ashe!  
  
**Character A:**...there’s an Ashe here  
**Character B:** wtf why is the world tiny  
  
**Character B:** but also. not dating your neighbour  
  
**Character B:** go flirt with him  
  
**Character A:** no.  
**Character B:** feeeeeelix  
  
**Character B:** bet you you do anyway :p  
  


  


When Dedue’s incredible curry was finished, they all began traipse from the kitchen to the sitting room, but Ingrid pulled Felix aside.

“Did you really not know who Dimitri is?” she asked in disbelief.

Felix tensed. “You might remember I didn’t go to any of the funerals,” he said stiffly. His refusal to do so had been a sticking point between them for years. “And it wasn’t like we exchanged surnames.”

“But still! You must have seen pictures of him before.”

He shrugged. “He’s changed a fair bit, wouldn’t you say? I thought he looked a bit familiar, but that was all.” He glared firmly at Ingrid. “Leave it, Ingrid. We’re just neighbours. It’s fine.”

She gave him a searching look, but sighed and nodded. “Fine. If you’re sure. Just… be careful with him.”

Felix threw up his hands. “Like I said! Just neighbours! It’s fine!”

Ingrid gave him a sideways look, and grinned. “The way he was talking about you before makes me think there’s a bit more than just neighbours going on.”

He felt himself turning furiously red. “That’s your imagination,” he said.

“If you say so,” she said, grin growing. “You won’t mind if I text Sylvain about it, then.”

Hand shooting out to grab her wrist before it reached her pocket, Felix scowled. “No!”

“See?” she laughed. “That’s your embarrassed scowl. Definitely more going on than neighbours.”

“It’s just because Sylvain would annoy the shit out of me about it, whether there’s anything there or not,” he retorted.

“Oh, so there might be something there!” Ingrid said, and laughed when Felix growled back at her. “Ok, ok, I’ll let it be. Come on, let’s join the others.”

He followed her through to the other room, where there weren’t enough seats to actually accommodate everyone. Felix ended up sat on the floor, leaning against the side of a sofa, his shoulder dangerously close to Dimitri’s legs. Dimitri, in fact, kept offering Felix his place on the sofa, and he had to refuse more vehemently every time, or he was afraid Dimitri would just give up and join him on the floor anyway. Somehow, he nonetheless ended up balanced on far more cushions than he needed, and it began to get difficult not to spill his wine on them. Though perhaps that wasn’t surprising, considering how much of it he had drunk.

He poked idly at the floor by his leg, and looked up at Dimitri. “Did you do something to the floor?” he asked, puzzled. “I don’t remember there being—” he waved a hand. “Squishy stuff.”

Dimitri went bright red, and Felix tilted his head at him. “It’s, ah, soundproofing material,” he said.

Felix looked back blankly.

“So I don’t disturb you any more.”

Slowly, Felix shook his head, suddenly slightly ashamed of how much of a fuss he’d made over the noise. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered. “You didn’t need to go to that much trouble.”

Dimitri just smiles at him. “Of course I did! I didn’t want to annoy you.”

Felix looked away. “It’s fine,” he said. “You’re fine.” He felt his ears heat a little. “What were you even doing?”

The broad smile faded abruptly from Dimitri’s face, and he once again suddenly looked much older. He sighed heavily. “I suppose I should tell you,” he began. “I… I was in the accident in Duscur, you know.”

Felix froze. This was not where he had expected the conversation to go.

"I know,” he said stiffly.

“I’ve been…” he said, then sighed again. “Ever since, I haven’t been well. Mentally, I mean. But last year I… It’s not a pleasant topic for a party, so I’ll just say I was having some trouble, and there was an… incident.”

“An incident,” Felix repeated blankly.

“That’s when I lost my eye,” Dimiri said, gesturing to his eyepatch. “But there were a lot of other things, and I injured my leg and my shoulder quite badly. When they released me from the hospital, they gave me a whole lot of physical therapy exercises. I suppose they involve a lot more banging on the floor than I thought.” He looked down. “Mostly because I just seem to lose my balance when I try to do them,” he confessed.

 _Shit_ , Felix thought. “Now I feel like a complete dick,” he said. “I’m… I’m sorry. You shouldn’t need to soundproof your floor just to do your physical therapy.”

“No, no!” Dimitri said earnestly. “I’m just sorry I disturbed you.”

Tentatively, Felix reached out to put a hand on Dimitri’s leg. He could feel his blush hot on his neck, but for a wonderful, soaring moment, he decided he didn’t care, as Dimitri covered his hand with his own. He looked up, and found himself smiling softly into Dimitri’s charmingly lopsided smile, his one eye wide and very, very blue.

“It’s nice,” Dimitri said quietly, tearing his eyes away from Felix’s. “Being here, with friends. Being able to be relaxed like this again.”

Felix looks around, at the warm room filled with people chattering away. From where she was tucked into Dorothea’s side, Ingrid caught his eye and raised an eyebrow at him. He did his best to glare back at her, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. It was hard to bring himself to care, though.

“Are we friends?” he asked Dimitri. Trying a little to hard to hide the vulnerability, it came out too combative. He winced.

Dimitri seemed to take no notice though, and he answered immediately, voice gentle and wine-flushed. “I hope so, Felix.”

  


* * *

  


Felix stumbled out of bed the next morning to a series of all-caps texts from Ingrid.

Ingrid  
  
**Character B:** BRUNCH IMMEDIATELY  
  
**Character B:** I’m dragging Sylvain out, meet us at eleven OR ELSE  
  


He looked up at the clock. It was barely ten o’clock, so he couldn’t even make the excuse that he’d woken up too late to make it there in time. With a groan, he showered and forced himself into some vaguely presentable clothes.

When he made it to their usual café, Ingrid and Sylvain were already there. They were talking intently over their coffees, and when Sylvain spotted him his face lit up in glee. Felix almost turned around and left again.

“Felix!” he called. “What’s this I hear about you and your new neighbour?”

“They were insufferable last night,” Ingrid joins in. “All cuddled up together on the sofa.”

“Like you and Dorothea were any better,” Felix retorted, slumping down into the third chair at the table.

Ingrid sniffed, and pushed her hair back from her face.

“And anyway,” he continued, “We weren’t _cuddled up_. We accidentally ended up digging up all our fucking issues and then started talking about physical therapy. So there.”

Sylvain let out a whistling exhale. “OK, not so light and cosy, then.”

“Did Ingrid think to inform you,” Felix asked coldly, “While she was busy gossiping about me, that said neighbour is _Dimitri fucking Blaiddyd_.”

“I don’t gossip!” Ingrid said indignantly.

“Yeah, she did,” Sylvain replied, ignoring her. “I’m still slightly—I’m sorry, Felix, but you really didn’t realise?”

“I’m still puzzled by that, honestly,” Ingrid added. “You must have met him before.”

Felix shrugged. “Once, I think. But he… he looks different now.”

“Oh yeah, he has the eyepatch and stuff,” Sylvain said sympathetically. “Poor guy.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Felix said curtly, then found himself blushing.

Ingrid burst out laughing, and leaned conspiratorially towards Sylvain. “He means,” she said slyly, “That Dimitri got hot.”

Felix kicked her under the table, and ignored her offended yelp. The problem is, she wasn’t wrong. Wracking his memory late last night, he had remembered a skinny, beansprout boy in the newspaper coverage of the Duscur incident. But Dimitri now was all broad chest and muscled shoulders, his hair shaggy in a way that should not be alluring. Felix, unfortunately, was still very much allured.

“OK, how hot are we talking?” Sylvain said contemplatively to Ingrid.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t get it,” she said.

Felix kicked Sylvain as well for that, and Sylvain winced.

“Fine, fine! I won’t ask what he looks like.” He turned to Ingrid again. “How did the two of you end up friends, anyway?” he asked.

“We kept in touch after the funerals and everything,” she said sadly. “He… he hasn’t had a good time of it, Felix, so be careful, OK?”

He glared back at her. “Shut up,” he said. “There’s nothing to be careful with.”

Sylvain chuckled. “I wasn’t even there last night, and I can tell that’s not true,” he said.

Felix kicked him again, and got up to order his coffee.

  


* * *

  


It was two more days before Felix gathered up the courage to go and knock on Dimitri’s door again. He only really did so because Annette’s texts on the subject were building up.

Annette  
  
**Character B:** have you asked him out yet!!!  
  
**Character A:** go away.  
  
**Character B:** feeeeelix  
  
**Character A:** I’m not going to ask him out.  
  
**Character B:** why not!!!! You’ll be happier if you do  
  
**Character A:** no I won’t. Shut up.  
  
**Character B:** Come on. You admitted he’s hot. And he’s single!! I checked with Ashe  
  
**Character B:** just ask him!  
  
**Character A:** what if I don’t want to.  
**Character B:** Well, fine then, but I don’t think that’s the case  
  
**Character B:** right??  
  
**Character A:**...  
  
**Character A:** no  
  
**Character A:** fuck  
  
**Character B:** HAHAHAHAHA see!  
  
**Character B:** come onnnnn just do it  


So Felix found himself trudging up the steep stairs of their building on Wednesday evening, yet again. He stood in front of Dimitri’s door for several full minutes before he mustered the courage to knock. Dimitri answered rapidly this time, smiling widely out at Felix.

“Felix! Hello! How are you?” he said brightly.

“Fine,” he grunted. “Listen. I just wanted to… thank you. For dinner the other night.”

“There’s absolutely no need to,” Dimitri said. “I just hope you enjoyed it.”

Felix barrelled on. “So I wanted to repay the favour. Do you want to come for dinner. At mine. Maybe on Friday?”

Dimitri looked nervous. “You really don’t need to repay me,” he said anxiously. “Your company was thanks enough.”

“Do you want to come or not?” Felix said, scowling.

The lines of Dimitri’s face softened again. “That would be lovely. Thank you. Will… will anyone else I know be there?”

Felix could feel the heat beginning to build in his ears, and sternly kept his face still. “No. I wasn’t… I haven’t invited anyone else.”

“Oh,” Dimitri said, and gave a shy smile. “That sounds… I already said lovely. That sounds delightful, Felix. Thank you.”

He nodded sharply back. “Come by at seven, then. Bye.”

Dimitri called another thank you down the hallway, but Felix was already at the stairs.

  


* * *

  


Friday came far too quickly. Unlike last week, when he’d felt like he was hanging in midair, waiting fruitlessly, the next two days rushed by him, and suddenly it was the end of the week, and oh, _fuck_.

Contrary to most of his friends’ beliefs, Felix could actually cook. That there weren’t many things he could cook was a minor detail, and didn’t matter anyway. He bought some pork chops, and put the potatoes on to boil, and made a sauce, and then changed his shirt twice.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was, definitively, not the kind of person who fussed over his clothes. He wore rough variants on about two different outfits, and he threw them on in the morning without really thinking. But here he was, stuck undecided between a blue shirt and a black turtleneck.

Dimitri’s knock on the door came far too soon. Felix cursed, quickly pulled on the turtleneck, and then immediately regretted it. But it was too late now. Dimitri stood outside his door, irritatingly tall and handsome as ever, looking vaguely nervous and clutching a wine bottle.

“I—I thought I should bring something,” he blurted out as soon as Felix opened the door. “But I didn’t know what. So I bought this, but then I realised I… don’t actually know if you drink wine? Do you drink wine? I’m sorry.”

Felix cut off his ramble by reaching out to take the bottle. “Thanks,” he said, and stepped back into his apartment. “Come in.”

Dimitri fell silent, and took a tentative step forward. “Through there,” Felix added, shutting the door behind him and gesturing towards the kitchen.

Obediently, Dimitri trotted through. “You have a lovely home!” he exclaimed.

From anyone else, it would have sounded like a rote pleasantry, to be brought out when otherwise at a loss for words. But from him, it seemed almost alarmingly sincere. Dimitri was like that, Felix was beginning to realise. He was as eager to please as a puppy, and he didn’t know why he didn’t hate it.

He looked around at his blank white walls, the minimalist furniture, and grunted. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“It suits you,” Dimitri continued, undeterred.

If Felix hadn’t been fighting down a blush before, well, he certainly was now. “Food?” he asked curtly, hurrying over to the stove and the half-finished meal preparation.

“Oh, yes!” Dimitri said. “Can I help at all?”

Felix looked back at him levelly. “It’s probably better if you don’t,” he said seriously.

Dimitri subsided, and looked vaguely ashamed. “Ah. Yes. I’m—”

“Just sit down,” Felix said impatiently. “Here, do you want some of this wine?”

They settled into a companionable silence as Felix finished off the cooking, draining the potatoes and vegetables, and dishing it all up.

“This looks delicious,” Dimitri said when the plate was placed in front of him. He smiled up at Felix, soft and warm. “Thank you.”

Felix looked away, and sat down opposite him. “Wait till you’ve actually tried it,” he said.

“Ah,” Dimitri said, his face suddenly falling. “I just realised I… never told you.”

“Told me what?”

“I don’t actually… have much of a sense of taste,” Dimitri said, looking down. “But! The upside is that I’m definitely going to enjoy this.” A strained, false smile drew across his face with this attempt at a joke.

Felix frowned. “Oh,” he said, and Dimitri’s expression collapsed again.

“I’m sorry,” he said wretchedly. “You’ve gone to all this effort, and I can’t even properly appreciate—”

“Stop it,” Felix said sharply. “It’s fine. I was just surprised.” He picked up his fork and stabbed it into a potato.

Dimitri looked forlorn now, but he too began to eat. “From what I can tell,” he offered a little sadly, “This is excellent.”

Felix shrugged. “Thanks, I guess,” he said. Even if Dimitri couldn’t taste much, his cooking was definitely no match for Dedue’s.

“I can smell at least,” Dimitri continued. “And that part is definitely good.”

He grunted in response, and carried on eating. The atmosphere had gone abruptly from slightly awkward to extremely tense, and Felix had never been good at dispelling something like that. He was awkward enough in most social situations already. Maybe this had all been a terrible idea.

“How has your week been?” he tried, testing the waters.

Dimitri gave him a strained smile. “Oh, it’s been fine,” he said, then lapsed back into silence.

Well, so much for that.

They finished the meal in silence, and when they were both done, Felix got up to carry the plates over to the sink.

“No, let me help with this at least!” Dimitri said.

Felix glared at him. “You’re a guest. Anyway, I was just going to leave them to soak until the morning.”

“I can help,” Dimitri repeated stubbornly, tugging his plate back out of Felix’s hands, and determinedly striding over to the sink and turning the tap on.

“For fuck’s sake,” Felix said, running out of patience. “Are you really that eager to avoid my company that you’d rather do that washing up?”

Dimitri dropped the plate. It landed on the bottom of the sink with a loud clatter, but luckily didn’t seem to break. “No!” Dimitri protested, then fell silent. Suddenly, the only sound was the slight hum of the lights and the hiss of the tap running uselessly into the plughole. Dimitri reached out, his hand wobbling slightly, and switched it off. “I just wanted to help, Felix,” he said.

Felix took a deep, slow breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Look, I just wanted this to be… I don't know. A good date, or something. But obviously you’re not—”

“This was meant to be a date?” Dimitri blurted out, turning suddenly bright red.

Felix stared at him. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Did you not…”

“I thought you were just being a friendly neighbour,” Dimitri said.

“I don’t think anyone has ever called me friendly in my life,” Felix said, fighting down the nauseous sensation rising up his throat. “Right. Fine. I’ll just… let you go now, or whatever.”

He stepped away from Dimitri, and began to stack together the pans that he’d left on the stove.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Dimitri said from behind him. His voice sounded odd somehow, almost strangled. “I—Felix. Please turn around again.”

Tensing his shoulders, Felix paused for a second, then slowly put the pans back down, and turned. “What,” he said flatly.

Dimitri took a step towards him. “I just thought I was being too hopeful,” he said, his face open and somehow both hopeful and longing. He took another step, and his voice dropped. “I—Felix, can I kiss you?”

“Oh,” Felix said. Then he nodded. His palms were suddenly sweaty, and he tried to wipe them discreetly on the sides of his legs. Tentatively, he took a single step.

Dimitri closed the last of the space between them, reaching out. One hand came to rest on Felix’s shoulder, the other hovered above his hip, and then his lips were on Felix’s, and _oh_. He was warm and gentle, stooping just slightly to bring their faces together. Felix made a noise of frustration. Too gentle. He reached up and twisted a hand into Dimitri’s hair, deepening the kiss.

The hovering hand landed on his hip, and he felt Dimitri’s fingers on his shoulder twist into the fabric of his shirt. He made a small surprised noise, but then he was reciprocating eagerly, his hands sliding round Felix’s back in a way that made him want to melt.

When they broke apart, Dimitri’s broad hands were holding Felix securely, one in the small of his back, the other by his shoulder blades. He couldn’t resist leaning back onto him just slightly, luxuriating in their steady warmth.

“Do you maybe,” Dimitri said, slightly out of breath, but his face now clear and beaming, “Want to try the whole… date thing again.”

Felix glared up at him. “Shut up,” he said. “Fine. If you’re so insistent.”

Dimitri’s smile was radiant. Felix pulled him down into another kiss.


End file.
